Parting the Noise Sce (ene)

Just when you thought that "noise" was a dead and bloated scene, a veritable "anyone can do it" exercise in exorcism, in walks the Lambsbread trio. These kids are the bright eyed and bushy tailed fetuses of free-rock, as if nothing has come before them and damn well nothing will be following them. Honestly, they make Lightning Bolt sound like the White Stripes.

Here, on this night, and many nights before, they simultaneously perform Patti Smith's vision of "rock as religion" by channeling a higher power and Suicide's idea that rock must be confrontational by splitting the room within the first thirty seconds. There is so much aural terrorism in their sound that they opt to play with their backs to the audience, as to not take it to personal extremes, eye contact could turn you to stone. One side is an angel choking on her own vomit, all growling and sputtering with glee, the other is an infinite squall of notes, alien communications with the outer realm. In the center, a drummer who could improv with the best, only three minutes in and his caterwauling cadence was drowning in feedback. At that point you had to imagine his heartrate, feel the floors shake, just to play along. I can't envision this force in a larger venue, it would simply be too much to handle.

Listen to the entire 13 minutes of their show last Friday at the Boo Boo and judge for yourself.